


Redemption

by chris--daae (AILiSeki)



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: Gen, just some final lair angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 18:19:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11697243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AILiSeki/pseuds/chris--daae
Summary: Based on a prompt from tumblr: "Absolve me of my sins, won't you?"Erik was prepared for everything but kindness.





	Redemption

_"Absolve me of my sins, won't you?"_

* * *

Her skin was warm and soft against his lips. She didn't run away, she didn't scream, and if Erik could see her face, he would see no disgust there.

But he couldn't. Tears clouded his vision, and soon he was on his knees, weeping.

Christine let him kiss her. Him, a monster! He, that reeked of death, that looked like a corpse, whose hands were stained with so much blood.

How could she? Erik was expecting her hatred, her fear, her coldness. He was not prepared for her kindness.

He was ready for Christine to go back in her word any moment! He was keeping the boy, ready to use him when she did! But there she was, and instead of pushing him away, she put her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer in a soft embrace. His crying got louder.

 

Christine's feelings were a mess. Fear and courage, hurt and relief, hatred and love. How much of them did she feel so intensely in the last hours, from the moment when Erik took her from the stage to now, he crying by her feet?

She found she could not hate him. He could stab a knife through her heart and she still couldn't hate him, she was not strong enough to hate him. Or perhaps that was her strength, that no matter how hurt she was, she could still not hate.

Christine wanted to hate him! What he did, she knew, was unforgivable. Just a few minutes ago she was sobbing for the horrible choice he forced her to make. She feared him, feared his mad rage, feared the fury and the hatred that she saw in his eyes. But she also could see who Erik was under all of it. He was broken, lonely, hopeless. He was horrible, capable of unspeakable things, but there he was, at her feet, disarmed by the simplest act of kindness. Tears filled Christine's eyes as she dared to think of all the pain he had known in his life, the pain of someone who never knew any kind of love.

He did not deserve her forgiveness, nor her kindness, but Christine didn't care. The world was an unfair place. It was not fair that a man had to suffer as much as Erik did. What change did it make it now that she gave him this undeserved gift, if she was willing to?

Her hands patted his back, caressed his thin hair, and her tears fell free. She cried for him, for herself, for all the pain and unfairness they both suffered these last months (this whole life, in his case, she reminded), and all the pain that was still to come.

"My poor Erik..." She whispered.

"Christine." His voice was weak. No power in there, and even its natural beauty seemed to be resting. "You deserve better."

Erik should pull away, he knew it, but he couldn't. He didn't want to. All he wanted was to be there in her arms forever, letting her tears clean his soul, ease his pain, erase his past and absolve his sins. Yes, so powerful those tiny drops. Because Christine cried for him and held him, as if he was a man who deserved her compassion and her comfort.

He knew he wasn't. He wanted to be, for her. For the first time in his whole existence, Erik wished he had a pure soul, a soul deserving of Christine. Never before it seemed to have mattered, after all one who is born a monster will always be a monster no matter their sins. But Christine could see behind all of it, an angel she was. And maybe, if he was only hideous, he could accept her, maybe there would be some poetry in this, a pure angel from the Heavens and a man who looked like a demon.

But Erik did not look like a demon, he was one, made from death from head to toe. This was too much, too much for him to push on her. Christine deserved someone with a soul as pure as her, and that Erik could never be. It was too late for that.

"I should never have asked this from you." He continued, in that weak, uncharacteristic voice. He finally managed to pull away, just to take a look at her.

Her forehead was still bloody, her arms still marked from the ropes. Yet in her eyes, nothing but acceptance.

Christine reached her hand out to him, but Erik stood up and walked away. He was still crying as he spoke.

"I can't do this to you. I can't force you to this."

"It's alright." Her voice trembled, a hint of fear. "I will keep my promise if you keep yours."

Erik shook his head. How could she still think of promises after what she just did? He was the one who had a debt now, a debt he could not pay even if he tried for all eternity. Her forgiveness and her acceptance, they were worth more than the world.

Erik could not go on with his plan. The mere idea disgusted him now. Christine, wonderful Christine, she would never be happy by his side. And she deserved happiness, all the happiness, to share with someone as good as her if she wished to.

His silence worried her. With a hand to her heart, she asked:

"You will keep your promise, right, Erik?"

"No harm will befall you or the Vicomte." He nodded.

Christine let out a sigh of relief, and reached for him again. He once again pulled away.

"But you don't need to keep any promise." He added, and a part of him felt like it was dying. He was really doing this, really giving up on the one thing he has always wished. But how could he keep his wishes at the cost of her happiness?

Was this the love they so much spoke of. Not the kisses and the touches, not the warmth of having someone near that accept you as you were. Was it the pain of choosing their happiness over yours? Knowing it would kill you, but still finding joy knowing that they would be happy.

Christine would be happy, whether she choose to marry the Vicomte or to stay at the opera, her talent finally recognized. She would be happy knowing that many lives were saved by her hands. She would be happy knowing that her poor Erik could finally rest, finally free from his pain, and that she was the one who gave him the only happiness in life.

And Erik could rest in peace, knowing that she was happy, and that she had been willing to give him everything. Because he realized that he did not need everything, just one kiss and one tear were enough.


End file.
